The Proper Tool from “Three Blocks West of Wonderland”

poems, , ,

Heading to the printers soon. Woo hoo!

The Proper Tool

I’m raring. I’m keen. Keen on the job, keen on green

suede, pea soup green suede. Round mountains

of breast meat. The taste of breadfruit. I’m fond

of blue fin, the Nepali coast. On off days I mourn

road kill, vanishing tooth fairies, yell above the wind

in ironwood trees or run over wild boars. I try to decipher

your posture, sagging down pipe. Was it something I said?

Did I wing a wrench into the works of your Stoly-propelled,

part-time life of letters? Did my leaky duck plump

body mangle your shift,

the entire working class hero period?

You don’t know your Gatsbys

from your Kowalskis, pub-crawling from slumming.

I buy jade, Siberian tiger’s eye. Thyme

infused bath bombs. Glass beads. Silk and suede,

green suede, so much easier to stroke than you.

Go saw yourself in half. Go nail

it in, back against the wall. Paint yourself, or it,

black. Into a corner. Weld your metal. Meld

the two halves of your dark side. Screw yourself.

Gather the loose ones. Punch yourself out.

Brendan Mullen R.I.P. -One Life is not enough!

Journal, , , ,

Another friend dead! I’m starting to feel this race against time, hot against the back of my neck. In fact, it’s getting personal! Thusly, I’m crankin’ the tunes, drinking wodka, looking over my shoulder.

One of my dear LA friends, Brendan Mullen, with whom I exchanged FB messages only a few days ago has expired after suffering a massive stroke. I didn’t think of him as *old.* Brendan was working on a new book, had asked me to nail down the year of a Zellots poster from a show at the John Anson Ford Theatre we played with Faith No More and the Red Hot Chili Peppers. I said, sure Brendan, I’ll get back to you, no problem. We always assume there is time, a next time.

To say that Brendan was a vital part of the west coast punk rock scene-a catalyst-as founder of the Masque in Los Angeles is an understatement. He was an alchemist, who despite the ephemeral nature of the performing arts routinely employed his intuition, power and skills to conjure up radical, earth shaking events, and thus history.

He continued propelling all that was raw and edgewise. In the beginning he provided a vital venue to bands like X, the Germs, the Go-Gos etc, etc, but post-punk he mixed it up royally as a consummate DJ and programmer with astute and eclectic musical tastes Continue reading →

Fantastic fungi, mortality, dream logic

Journal

I came across some fantastic fungi in the forest while walking the dogs. They resemble chocolate leather buttons! I know they’re not psilocybin, doubt they’re edible and since they’re not in my field guide, on the ground they shall remain.

I found a toad residing in the hot tub cover and two yolks in one egg this morning. We get our cackle berries from the local butcher, Alderwood Farms just down the road and they are always so lovely and nearly as fresh as having your own chicken coop. SamIAm just caught and devoured a dragonfly! He’s faster than he looks.

I’ve been in a real funk since returning from Los Angeles, feel like jumping out a window or going to live in the woods. I’ve said it before, I am always so happy to see everyone down there but it makes me nostalgic, melancholy even, haunting my old stomping grounds. You are forced to face your mortality when a friend dies. I was discussing it with Gretl, Peter’s sister. At 40, she said Continue reading →

Post-Peter memorial, discombobulated, sad

Journal,

Is it any wonder? I can’t focus, keep playing around with FB and email, skirting around the huge job I need to get done, curating the Visible Verse 09 screening.

I’m drained, keep listening to songs Peter and I wrote and sang together, going over it in my mind, all the things we *could* have done, the great potential we had, the promise, how we threw it all away. Well, I am apparently still trying to come to terms with it, never had to face it until losing him, our shared past. And I just plain old miss him! Hate the void…

Wednesday, Sept. 30

Lunch before I leave for the airport, Reuben sandwich in Beechwood Canyon with Teresa, right under the Hollywood sign. Odd how the fabled Hollywood came to be such a significant part of my life, moving here so young, playing in bands, hanging out with Hollywood punks. Like most of the rest of my life, I didn’t plan it. I’m no movie-eyed starlet. Certainly I arrived with ambitions but it just sort of happened, found myself in a band with Brad Kent who had played in San Francisco’s Avengers and had connections in LA, namely our drummer Karla Mad Dog of the Controllers.

Robyn Westcott, Byron and Maritza came by the hotel last night and we had a lovely visit. Robyn and I commiserated over those who were instrumental in Peter’s murder, those whose names make me Continue reading →

Hanging with my Cali girls, the Ex-Girlfriends Club, gecko in the bathroom

Journal,

Been battling insomnia, a vicious circle. The more I worry that I won’t sleep, the harder it is to drop off. I’m up and down for hours, anxiously peeing, assuaging the turmoil in my gut in vain. I retired early, right after dinner at Yamashiro with some of Gretl’s friends, too tired to party hearty. I shouldn’t eat so late either but the two computer programmers got lost in Hollywood. Geeks said Gretl-so I’m kind of surprised they didn’t have a GPS. Josef helped develop the technology and he only recently conceded to buying one. What’s that about?

Preparing today for my performance in Pasadena, wondering if anyone will show up. Even a poet’s friends don’t want to attend a poetry reading! I extend an invitation and they get a panicked look on their faces, revealing they’d rather be anywhere else. After we are to drive back to the hotel and cab it over to Boardner’s for Peter’s memorial and it will be interesting to see who shows up there.

Liza, one of Peter’s ex-girlfriends came over with her sister yesterday. A lovely young redhead from South Carolina, replete with endearing accent. Interesting to hear of their life together, that period. Things felt a little awkward but I believe we all tried to Continue reading →

Still missing Peter, one year later

Journal,

Peter’s birthday. He would have turned 54 if he hadn’t been taken out by a trigger happy *friend.* I’m preparing to go to LA to attend a memorial, meeting up with his sister Gretl. I am going be performing poems from my new book, Three Blocks West Of Wonderland, dedicated to his memory.

Sucks. Still sucks after a year. Still can’t believe he’s gone, haven’t entirely assimilated it or been able to write about it. It took many years before I could write about my mother after she died in 1992.

Dreamed I was ambling down the road on a hose! Like riding a snake. If I yarded the thing just right, it stayed up high, rigid enough to keep me aloft. Surely it was due to riding the horse the other day, learning to use the reigns. Lovely and bizarre dream, like the best of them. I don’t remember my dreams much anymore, am happy when I do.

Trying to tie up what seems like a million loose ends before I leave. Junior is digitizing some old cassettes, recordings of the band Peter and I had with Jon Huck and John MacAdams a long time ago. Josef transferred the footage we shot but the editing software keeps crashing. Need to get it rendered and to Roderick so he can start working on it. I have to view it though before I leave in case there is anything that needs to be re-shot, though at this rate, I am running out of time.

My first time! (On a horse) AURAL Heather video shoot

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I did it! I rode a horse! A stallion no less! A black stallion! For the first time in my life. I think. I told Josef that I vaguely remember trying to get on a horse once, long ago, when I was a girl and maybe I got scared or the horse spooked or something. It’s strange. I’m obsessed with the creatures. I told Laura Doyle, consummate horse woman and fellow artist, who gave me my first riding lesson today, that I dream about them, write about them, am always completely in awe of their grace, power and beauty.

I’m so lucky to have met her. Laura made the experience so wonderful, said I did well. I even got up to a trot! So naturally I’m inspired, want to learn to ride, want my own horse! Hers, a handsome black Friesen, named Orion. The Friesen is a “uniquely kind breed with loads of willingness, stunning to watch as they show their beauty in movement.” *sigh* I think I’m in love. I was nervous, but not scared. I have been around horses most of my life. I went to school in Cloverdale, many of my girlfriends equestrians and I even had a job watering and feeding a small herd of Palominos.

Orion was great, likes to be scratched at the base of his neck. Very affectionate, mellow. I am good with animals, dogs especially, tried to pretend, or approach him like a big dog. 1000-pound dog! I looked over at one point to see one of the mares on her back, rolling around in the dirt, just like Sam loves to do.

Great day! It even stopped raining and we shot out in the pasture and willows. It couldn’t have turned out better. A great day despite starting off in a quandary about what to wear. I wanted to spoof Lady Godiva and had the costume all worked out—made a hair piece, bought a body stocking— but Continue reading →

AURAL Heather video, Three Blocks West Of Wonderland previews

Journal

Boldly prevailing. Yeah, like that, what fellow poet Allan Briesmaster said  about my work, see below.

Deep in the throes of video production now, pre-production, a critical phase. It must have seemed to others as though nothing was happening but I’ve spent months working on the shot list then storyboard (despite losing my ability to draw) finding my costume (could find no one on the island to sew a Daisy Buchanan inspired dress so gave up on the idea of a period costume and ordered a dress online from the fabulous Peach Berserk in Toronto), a horse (islanders seemed afraid of liability, fortunately I found one along with an equestrian the lovely and talented singer-songwriter Laura Doyle through Tina’s friend David), crew (despite advertising locally for an assistant so have hired my niece Sanjezz to help out but George Zawadzki of Bowen TV has volunteered as cameraman), lighting which I managed to get donated thanks to my good friend film producer Fitch Cady. Locations are our back yard and Laura’s place in Pitt Meadows. Lots of pulling together disparate elements but it’s all finally coming together. Still a million things to do before first day of shooting Continue reading →

Life with & without *Slam*, AURAL Heather @ the &Now Conference in New York, Ferry Godmother

Journal,

Finally coming up for air and an opportunity to write! Some home improvement is on the agenda this weekend, a little fun as well. We plan to cavort a bit down at Bowfest this evening. I wonder if the beer tent sells wine. I can’t drink beer anymore; not sure why and there are only a few wines I enjoy. The weather is cooperating, no rain on the parade this morning.

Injured my knee thanks to our brute of a pup, SamIAm. Some kid and his mutt came by the house with a flyer and Sam went ballistic. Junior pays no attention to what the hounds are up to so I had to Continue reading →